Time Chronicles: The Old Ones
by Junipertree
Summary: Faeya and Myranda go back in time and meet the Old Ones, etc. etc. Read all the Tortall's Twin stuff before you read this or you won't get half of it.
1. Faeya

Well

Well- this is the almighty sequel to Tortall's Twin part 3. It can also be considered a sequel to Twins Children: The Wildmages. Read that before you read this, or a lot of stuff is given away. It is all staged in a very messed up Tortall. 

Read the back of the book (a.k.a. the summary):

Faeya is the child of Neal and Kel, and slightly- deranged. She was sitting on Cleon's lap when he committed suicide, and she has to deal with the trauma. Meanwhile, a ragtag (and famous, guess who it is) couple returns to Tortall and tries to fit in at court with their own daughter, Myranda. This is not anti-Daine.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of Tamora Pierce's characters or anything, but I do own what I created so hands off! This disclaimer applies to the whole story.

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Twin's Children: Faeya

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Chapter 1: Faeya

A girl, maybe fifteen, looked out the window. It was raining, the drops drizzling down the panes. Suddenly the water took on a dark red color, becoming thicker. The blood left streaks on the windows. Then she was three again, sitting on the man's lap, blood pouring all over her. Only one thing was different: she didn't scream. She would never, ever scream.

Faeya sat up in bed, sweating. A dream. That was all it was, a dream. Laying back down again, she closed her eyes and tried to sleep. It was just a dream. Not real. Even after twelve years, she never forgot. Her parents never said anything about it, they had never told her, but she remembered. She didn't know who the man was, only that whenever she asked her mother who it was she turned away and ran off. So she stopped asking. 

*** 

Keladry of Queenscove, the Shang Snow Leopard, ran her fingers through her hair.   
"It's not right, Neal!" she said. "A girl her age should have fun- make friends. All she ever does is go for long walks, or sit by the window in her room and stare out, for hours at a time."

Her husband sighed and sat down. "It's just a phase."

"A phase, Nealan."

Neal winced as Kel said his full name. "Okay, maybe it isn't."

Kel turned around, angry. "Of course it's not a phase! She's been like this almost all her life, ever since…"

Neal walked up to her and put his arm around her neck. "I know. But what can we do? She'll barely even speak to us. Or anyone else, for that matter."

"All we can to is hope…"

*** 

Veralidaine Sarrasri, otherwise known as the Wildmage, looked up at the building, clothes billowing around her in the fierce wind. "You think we can do this without getting ourselves murdered?" she yelled to Numair over the wind.

"Of course!" he yelled back. "Do you underestimate me? But I was good friends with the king- once." He winced, remembering the past few decades. "Anyway, he should know we want to make amends. We haven't affected him personally, you know. And I'm sick of life on the run. I want to settle down, stop living with my life on the line."

Myranda, their thirteen-year-old daughter, sneered. "Oh, really? You've only said that like a million times. I don't think I quite understand it yet."

"Myr-" warned Daine.

"Don't you 'Myr' me. You know very well how I feel about the whole thing. I want to go home to Carthak! Tortall is cold and miserable and there aren't any bloody slaves! You have to _pay_ them!"

"Its called freedom." Numair said dryly.

Myr snarled at him. "I call it savage!"

Daine sighed. "Look, I know we haven't been the best parents, but that's no reason for you to be disrespectful. _You_ may enjoy slaves, but seeing people used that that makes my skin crawl."

"And you'd sure know about it," Myr snapped.

"Enough." Numair put up a restraining hand. "We're here, no matter what objections you might have. And Daine, I'm sure the King won't turn down another mage." He grinned, flashing suprisingly white teeth. 

"Yes, I'm sure he'll have some use for me," Daine retorted. "Now let's get going."

They walked up to the palace gates, and with a few sly words to the guards, were let in. 

*** 

Faeya heard a knock on the door.

"Fae?" called her mother. "Are you in there?"

"Enter." Fae said. Her mother went in, closing the door behind her. "There's a new couple at court," she said. No reply. "I knew them when I was younger. They have a daughter about your age, I believe." Still no response. "Oh, Fae!" cried her mother. "I've tried so hard! But ever since Cleon-" she broke down and started to cry.

Fae looked up at Kel, surprised. She had never said anything about a man called Cleon. Perhaps- no, that was too much to hope for.

"We were going to marry, you know," Kel continued. "But gods blast it, My parents set me up with an arranged marriage with your father." 

Now Faeya was really surprised. Kel and Neal had always seemed perfect for each other; she could never imagine them marrying against their wills. "Then-" Kel sniffed, "Before wedding, you were born, then. It hurt me, to see you as Neal's daughter when I loved Cleon. It was because of Chisakami. She drove Cleon mad- he tried to kill me. Then- I- Neal- well, the result was you. But then Thom broke the spell, but it was too late. I couldn't marry him because of my parents. I was born Mindelan, you know. And at the wedding-" Kel cried harder. "I found that I loved Neal. Maybe not as much as I loved Cleon, but I didn't really regret marrying him. And Cleon saw. He killed himself before I could stop him. And you-" Kel stopped, unable to continue.

Fae just sat there, openmouthed. She had never thought that her mother would love someone other than her father. Or that the man who stabbed himself would have any connection with her mother. Kel controlled herself, and let out a weak smile. "The Yamanis would be ashamed. They wouldn't speak to me for years. But I could never have any more children. I'm not like- ah, never mind, it's a bit of a secret. But you're my daughter, Fae, I want you to be happy."

Faeya couldn't believe what she was hearing. _Her mother_, pouring her heart out? Her mother, the stone-face whose expression wouldn't give you the time of day? It was too much to swallow. "I'll think about meeting her." She said grudgingly. 

*** 

Daine and Numair, Myr lagging behind them, walked to the king's audience chamber. It was basically a waiting room- you had to wait a _long_ time if you wanted to see the king.

They opened the door into the waiting room and sat themselves down on the padded chairs before anyone could protest. Sitting across from them was a young man with dark hair and a dark expression. He was poring over a book in his lap, and didn't even look up when they entered. Suddenly he jumped as if shocked, and dropped the book immediately. Slowly he lifted up his head to stare at the newcomers with an unflinching gaze. Black fire gathered around his clenched fists, ready to strike out.

"Give me one reason why I should not kill you right now," he said in a calm voice.

Daine studied his face. "Who are you?" she asked.

"I am your son!" he yelled, and the magic in his hands lashed out at Daine and Numair. Numair instantly put up a protective shield around them.

"Arandiall?" he questioned.

"Damn straight," Aran said, seething. "You abandoned me. You left me in an orphanage, like some toy you were tired of playing with."

"Aran," Daine said, "It's not our fault. We _tried_ to raise you, but we were running from the law. We couldn't give you the parenting you deserve."

"So you decide to give me none at all? What about Jaunne? Tekkiake? Rowan?"

"Tekkiake? Rowan?" Daine repeated.

"Your _children,_" Arandiall sneered. "That stormsing that seduced you- Tekkiake is your child. That deer you, ah, had some fun with when you lost your human self- Rowan is your child. You know Jaunne. You caused her death, you bitch. She was the rightful heir to the Carthaki throne. Now Carthak is ruled by some regent who doesn't know what the hell he's doing. Tekkiake escaped from prison and disappeared, and Rowan and Farrah- I don't know what happened to them. By miracle, I escaped and came to Tortall. But you'll pay- I was apprenticed to the greatest mage in the world." More fire gathered in his hands. "And you will die like the scum you are."

"Hold it!" yelled Myranda. "How come I wasn't told about this?!?"

Everyone stopped. "Well…" Daine said evasively, "You never asked…"

"Bullshit. Now I find I have a brother, and two half-siblings, and a dead half-sibling who was the Empress of Carthak. Why the hell wasn't I told?!?"

Daine sighed. "Sit down. Now, I was forced to marry the heir to the Carthaki throne, Kaddar. I escaped, but I was pregnant and had a child, which I named Jaunne. Then I…"

(***If you wanna hear the rest, read Twin's Children: The Wildmages***)

Arandiall, all the time, just sat there, murder in his glance. "You've got me on your trail, man. Tekk and Rowan are to much of pacifists to kill you. But I swore the day Jaunne died that I would avenge her death. I thought it would mean killing Numair, since Tekkiake said Jaunne killed you. Did Numair bring you back from the dead? Like you did him?"

"No," said Daine. "I never really died. Numair kept me alive with spells until he could reach me."

Myr wrinkled her eyebrows. "Like you did him?"

Daine blushed. "Well, originally, Numair was fourteen years older than I. So I killed him and brought him back to life ten years later so we could be closer to the same age."

Arandiall spat at her feet. "A disgusting waste of magic."

"And what do you mean you were apprenticed to the greatest mage in the world?" Numair demanded.

Aran laughed. "Father, father, such an egotist. I was apprenticed to Thom of Trebond, idiot. You really are so pompous as to think you are the greatest mage in the world? Thom could kick your ass."

Numair was turning purple. "You really think, so, fool? Well I challenge this 'Thom of Trebond' to a Mage's Duel!!" 

"You're in for it…"


	2. Mage's Duel

Chapter 2: Mage's Duel ****

Chapter 2: Mage's Duel

"You're in for it," Arandiall warned. 

"Oh, we'll see about that," Numair said vehemently. 

*** 

The next day Numair, Thom, and many gawking spectators lined up in the outdoor fencing courts. Wards created by all the mages at the palace (save Thom and Numair) were set up to keep them from blowing up the place. 

Thom of Trebond, despite his age, had only a few gray hairs in his auburn mop and a fine moustache. His eyes gleamed violet with anticipation. Not in years had he had such a challenge! A duel with a black-robe mage! He would take a while to beat. (***Ego ego. Great mages seem to have great egos to match***). 

Numair Samalin had his black hair (plenty of gray in this mop) pulled back in a horsetail, and he looked every bit a sleek as Thom. Black fire studded with silver danced around his fingertips, eagerly awaiting the duel. Thom had a reputation, he did. He may take some time in beating. But it would most likely be no different than Tristan, or Inar Hadensra at worst. 

"Begin!" the king yelled. He would be quite interested in this, though he would likely have to intervene, so he brought with him the Dominion Jewel just in case. Suddenly the courts lit up with magical fires, black-silver and purple firing everywhere. Then it cleared, and you could see Numair covered in burn marks, clothing in an indecent mess, and Thom stuck up to his neck in a giant ice cube. He shouted a word, melting the ice and throwing shards at Numair, which turned into miniature dragons. Numair conjured up his own flight of dragons, and they attacked each other instead of plaguing him. Thom then raised his hands, gathering purple flame in them and throwing it down on the ground. A giant crevasse opened up under Numair's feet. Numair then preformed a fancy trick, giving the crevasse a life of its own and making it squirm about. Thom fell in, and Numair closed up the crevasse. Some cheered, but Numair knew the contest was far from over. Thom emerged from underneath Numair's feet and grabbed his ankles, sending an electric pulse through his body. Numair then ripped Thom from the ground and coated him in rubber. 

This exchange went on for some time, and neither seemed to tire. Finally Thom yelled, "Enough with the childsplay!" his voice deepened to a booming roar. "I summon Alanna of Trebond, shaman of the Bloody Hawk, my twin!"

Thom pulsed with a deep violet, and with one last cry, a woman his age appeared beside his, wielding a sword. In fact, she looked almost exactly like him, save for the hair and the loose burnoose she wore.

"You called me, brother?" she asked. "What the hell for?"

Thom glared at his sister. "I'm having a Mage's Duel. You- sister, will help me."

"Hey. I used to dunk you in the fishpond, Thom, I'll do it again." Her gaze wandered. "Any old friends? Hey Jon, I'm still pissed off at you. Even after you became king, you still wouldn't let me be a knight! Blast you, chauvinist! I can't believe I ever thought you attractive!"

The duel was momentarily forgotten. Jonathan glared at her. "I'm not the one who had an affair with the King of Thieves!"

The color rose in Alanna's face. "You know I'm sensitive about George! Don't speak ill of the dead! And I'm not the one who let his cousin plot against the King and Queen right under his nose! You wouldn't even believe me when I suggested it to you. And then look what happened!"

"And you had to run off to the Bazhir with one of my best knights! I ought to charge him with treason!"

Alanna was yelling at the top of her lungs. "Oh, yeah! You touch Gary- you even touch him, and I'll tell everyone about your little affair with Delia! And Josiane! And half of the ladies at court! I'll have you remember, my dear Prince, when you tried to court me!"

Jonathan was yelling right back. "What about your little bout with Raoul, eh? Had fun with him? Alanna of Trebond, you never could fight. Your swordsmanship was lousy, you could barely handle a bow, and you couldn't ride without falling off! I couldn't pronounce you a first-year page, let alone a knight! All you're fit to do is sit in a parlor and do embroidery!"

"Oh yeah!" Alanna was shaking with fury. "I'll have you know, king, you liar. You didn't have a vision from the gods, who gave you the Dominion Jewel. I gave it to you! I traveled to the Roof of the World, and battled Chitral for it! I made it appear as if the gods gave it to you, because if I said I won it you'd never believe me! Without it, you are no great mage, Jonathan!"

"Filthy liar!"

"Oh yeah!" Alanna held out her arm, palm up. "Come to me, Dominion Jewel. Come to the one who won you, come to the one who battled the elemental!" and the Dominion Jewel flew out of Jonathan's pouch to rest in her hand. "You're not getting it back, Jonathan, until you pass the law that females can become knights, with exactly the same rules and conditions that the boys get. I mean it, Jon, I swear by the Goddess as her Chosen." She put it safely in her belt pouch.

Numair cleared his throat. "I believe we were having a duel?" he said mildly.

"Oh, yeah," replied Thom absently. "Your turn."

Numair raised his hands in the air, black fire speckled with silver gathering in his palms. "I call upon thee, bound to aid me in my duel, Duke Roger of Conte!"


	3. Roger Returns

Well… That was a bit of a cliffhanger, eh

Well… That was a bit of a cliffhanger, eh? I'm bad. I didn't create any of Tamora Pierce's stuff, so don't sue me.

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Chapter 3: Roger Returns

Everyone stood there, stupefied, as Duke Roger stood there, smiling, showing his unbelievably white teeth.

"Hello, all," he grinned, "Anyone miss me?"

"Get him." Numair pointed at Thom. "I have to beat this nitwit in a Mage's Duel, and he called up his bloody sister to help him."

Roger's eyes widened. "Alanna? What a pleasant surprise. I shall be sure to make your death painful. Very painful."

Alanna's eyes narrowed. "Nice try, Dukie." Raising her sword, she lunged at Roger. The Duke, of course, wielded his own sword, and fought back. Alanna was obviously the superior, but Roger fought with more than just weapons. Alanna, however, was not magically weaponless. Yawning, she sent a thread of purple flame to strangle Roger where he stood.

Looking down at the dying Roger, she raised her eyebrow at him. "You never could beat me, Rog," she said, humor in her eyes. "This is the _third_ time I've had to kill you."

"Alanna," he choked out between gasps. "One of these days…" and he died.

Alanna stood up. "Well," she said cheerfully. "Any other old enemies resurrected from the dead? Claw? Alex?"

Numair banged his fist against his leg. "Dammit! Thwarted again!"

Alanna finally seemed to notice him. "Oh, yes, the duel. Thom, give me a hand, will you?" The Trebond purple combined to coat Numair in a layer of magic, effectively stopping his movement. One arm started to twist behind his back, and Thom glared at his sister.

"Alanna" he growled, annoyed.

"Mercy," gasped Numair.

"Whoo hoo!" And the spell dissipated, dropping the poor mage to the ground, massaging his arm. Thom then commenced a victory dance around the courts, sticking his tongue out at Numair at intervals.

King Jonathan approached Alanna. "Um, Alanna, about the Dominion Jewel…"

Alanna glared at him. "Nice try, smarto."

"Can't I just have it back?" he said meekly.

Alanna grinned from ear to ear. "Nope."

~*~

Faeya had met Myranda, and wasn't exactly pleased with the result. Myranda was, strictly speaking, a brat. Very annoying, and prone to giving lectures. The conversation took an odd twist, when Myr mentioned something.

"…And then those idiotic parents of mine began their research of the Old Ones…" Myranda went on.

"Wait, wait," said Faeya. "The Old Ones?"

Myr snorted. "Yeah. I actually think they're kinda cool, but like I would ever tell that to my parents…"

"I heard there were some ruins found recently only a days ride from here." Fae said nonchalantly.

"Really?"

Fae was filled with a sneaky urge to get revenge on Myr for making her endure her long speeches. "I dare you to go up there for the night." During the course of their one-sided conversation, Fae had discovered that Myranda never, _ever_ turned down a dare. Like some kind of absurd honor.

Myranda turned pale. "You wouldn't make me."

Fae thought for a moment. "I'll turn it into a double dare. We'll both do it."

Myranda looked positively ecstatic. "I'll do it! Tomorrow night, then?" Faeya nodded. The dare was on.

~*~

The next evening, they quietly saddled their mounts and rode the paths to the newly found ruins. They got there at dusk, and had a short meal before huddling down in a pile of rubble, shivering excitedly.

"You don't think anything will happen, do you? I don't." Myr said nervously.

"Then why are you whispering?" Fae whispered back. They were huddled in a bundle of blankets, their mounts tethered nearby. 

"Oh!" Myr almost jumped. "Did you see that?"

Fae looked at her strangely. "See what?"

Myr gestured with her head. "The lights. Over there."

"You wanna see what it is?"

"You do it."

"We'll both go."

Getting leaving their blankets behind, they followed the lights. As it got brighter, they saw it was coming out of some rock, a little glowing light. They peered at it, trying to divine what it might be.

"Do you think it's magic?" whispered Faeya.

Myr snorted. "Duh."

Cautiously leaning forward, they both touched the panel at the same time. The light flashed brighter, and it seemed to pull them in, and they were surrounded by light, following down a tunnel of it that descended into… where?

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Duh duh duh…. Cliffhanger! Well, think where they are, man! I'll probably make the next chapter longer.


	4. The Old Ones

Chapter 3: The Old Ones ****

Chapter 3: The Old Ones

Faeya woke to the cool feeling of a cloth on her forehead. Blinking slowly, she sat up and looked around her. It took a while for her surroundings to come into focus, but when they did, she nearly lay back down again, thinking she must be delirious.

It was the oddest room she had ever seen. Just- odd. On the ceiling there was an odd globe that glowed brightly, and there was the weirdest equipment around her. Sitting by her bed was a woman with a clipboard, who looked up when Fae let out a tiny moan.

The woman was dressed all in white, a long jacket and professional-looking. "You're up?" she said briskly. "Well, I daresay you'll be hungry. What do you think you're up to eating?"

Fae squinted harder. It all _seemed_ to be real. "Well, I feel pretty okay. I'll eat whatever you have."

The woman smiled warmly. "Which isn't anything much, I know. Ever since the Colony came, you locals have been raiding and banditing- but the charter of basic rights and freedoms says something about colonizing planets, and aboriginal rights and junk…. Anyway, try not to take offense. Here." She handed Fae a bowl of something goopy and brown. 

When Faeya didn't respond, the woman laughed. "I know it looks gross, but it's just nutro-pudding. Pretend it's chocolate."

On a leap of faith, Fae picked up a spoonful, jamming it in her mouth. It was actually pretty good! She ate the entire thing, though it was quite filling.

"My name is Karen." The woman said. "I'm the resident nurse. Doctor Corus will be with you in a moment."

Doctor Corus? As in, the capital? Whatever. Head spinning with all these newfound surroundings, Fae lay back down on the pillow as a man, also clothed in white, entered the room. 

He looked at her and frowned slightly, but Fae couldn't be sure. "Hello," he said briskly. "I'm Doctor Sean Corus. What is your name, if I may ask?"

Fae blinked slightly. "Faeya of Queenscove." 

The man scowled even deeper. "Queenscove? One of the 'fiefs' on the shield of the Warties? Just my luck to get saddled with a high noble." He sat down beside her with a malign expression on his face.

"Actually," she squeaked, "My father was a younger son…" she silenced under the man's glare.

"You will listen to me, girl, and listen well. You are lower-ranking than any citizen of N'Europe, and you will do well to remember that. No blood, however blue, is of any importance here. Once recovered, you will be the responsibility of the Department of Juvenile Delinquents."

Faeya cocked her head in confusion. "What about Myr-"

"She will accompany you, since you seem to know each other." He gave her a cursory examination, and left.

~*~

The next day Faeya left her white room and was escorted by some fearsome men down the hallway. She saw Myr being similarly pushed along, spitting and kicking the whole way. They were pushed into a funny box, where the men pushed some buttons, closing them in. Then the box went down, (This is an elevator, in case you hadn't noticed) and Fae clung to the side, scared out of her wits. The door opened again, and they were on a different level. She was then marched through some glass doors and pushed into a roaring metal monster waiting for them. Fae drew back, but she was pushed inside the door and her hands were cuffed behind her back. There was a grille separating her from the man in front. The thing revved and shot off, hovering a few inches above the ground. She shut her eyes in fear, and when she opened them again, she was at another building, dark an foreboding.

Some words in a foreign language were printed at the front of the building, and Fae, with Myranda not far behind, was 'escorted' into another box and thrown into a blank room with only two pallets on the floor. Myr was next, cursing and delivering a blow to her captor's eye. The door shut.

Fae sat on the floor, shivering. The walls were closing in on her, squeezing her tight. She couldn't breathe-

"Fae!" Myr growled. "Snap out of it!" she shook the other girl's shoulders roughly.

Faeya just sat there, shivering. Myr drew back her fist and gave her a hearty punch in the eye. Fae got up and walked to her pallet, not saying a word.

~*~

A loud bell reverberating in her eardrums woke Fae the next morning. The doors to her room slid open, and she gratefully took the escape, Myr following her. She got out of the room and realized that the floor was moving her. She nearly fell over, and then got her balance as the moving floor deposited her at the box again. There were only two buttons in this box, one said 'up' and the other said 'down'. Faeya wasn't sure what to do, but Myr pressed the 'down' button, and the doors closed as they lurched downward. 

The doors opened and they emerged at a setting quite like the mess hall at the palace. Kids anywhere from five to twenty filled the room, pushing and shoving to be first in line for food. A funny contraption doled out their meager rations on trays, and when served they went to sit at long tables and benches. As soon as Fae and Myranda entered the room, all motion stopped. Everyone turned to stare at the newcomers.

"Go back where ya came from, Wartie!" one called out.

"Who are ya gonna sacrifice to your gods next?" 

Fae drew back, but Myr stepped forward and rammed the second speaker in the stomach. "You." She whispered, and threw him to the floor. She punched him in the jaw, and swiftly broke his nose. She stood, and before he could get up, she kicked him in the groin. 

"By the Goddess!" she yelled. "If you _ever_ talk to me like that again, you'll be taking a forced vow of chastity!" She calmly butted to the front of the line, and grabbed her tray without a word. Fae meekly walked to the back of the line and endured the taunts silently. 

She sat down as far as possible from everybody else with her food, and ate it in peace. She felt something wet hit her cheek, and wiped off a spitball, not even looking at her attacker. She felt someone it down beside her and stiffened. She looked up at a boy not much older than she, dressed in stiff blue pants with holes at the knees and ragged bottoms. He wore a shirt with an odd picture on the front and that same foreign writing.

"Hi," he said.

Fae looked back at her food. "What?" she said cynically. "Aren't you going to throw some food at me? Mock my clothes? Taunt my ancestors?"

He looked at her from beneath his scraggly hair, amused. "No. I'm really curious about natives, that's all. I've never met one."

She studied him skeptically. "I can't tell you. One minute I was camping in the Old One's ruins, the next I was waking up in one of those things that pass for beds here."

"Old Ones?" 

She stared at him as if he was crazy. 'The Old Ones, you nitwit! The ones with the ageless tools and lived thousands of years ago! They have writing-" she paused, realizing what she was saying, "-writing exactly like yours."

He looked rather pale. "Oh, crap. I've heard about all those studies on time travel, but- you're not just making it up?"

Faeya was furious. 'I'm a Queenscove, you nitwit, I don't lie about things like that! My mother drilled it into me enough-"

"Your mother?"

She sighed patiently. "The Shang Snow Leopard. Keladry of Queenscove, formerly Mindelan. You haven't heard about her? Where have you been for the past twenty years?"

"Actually, I was transported here from Earth3 just five years ago." He admitted.

"Earth3?"

He snorted. "Now where have _you_ been for the past twenty years?"

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Waddaya think? Review, please!! 


	5. Explinations

Chapter 5: Explinations ****

Chapter 5: Explanations

"So where have you been for the past twenty years?" he snorted. "Earth3. Better known as Terra Cotta. You know, the third Terra planet?"

She stared at him, open-mouthed.

He sighed. "There are for types of planets. Terra, Marina, Avia, and Pyra. The Terras are the most inhabited, though the Marinas are quite popular. Avias are very- odd. With the Pyras, you generally live in domes and such. Terra has a percentage of earth about the same as Terra Alpha, otherwise known as the Home Planet. Hydras are like eighty- percent water, Pyras consist of mostly volcanoes, and the Avias have like no atmosphere, and very little on the ground, as well as the highest mountains you've ever seen. My name is Carson, by the way." He returned to his food. "Never mind about it all. Anyway, for maybe the past what- eight hundred years? Ever since the Spacedawn. SD. It went from about 3000 AD, when they changed it to SD. They'd sent out experienced astronauts before then, and 'bots 'n' 'droids, but never colonizers. The year is, I think, 824 SD." Carson shook his head. "Not that I really care. But then there's the Prev-Planets. They say that humans once had amazing technology, and then they lost it. Now we're regaining it again. But before, they say that they colonized planets. Now we're coming back to those same planets, but the planets we come back to are- very odd."

Faeya tried to swallow all of this. "Odd?"

He looked over his shoulder, as if checking for people listening in. "Well- weird things start happening. Unexplainable things. Like people being healed by only touch, people exploding for no reason at all. Objects moving without being touched."

Fae just stared at him. "Why- that's just magic!"

"Shh!" he hissed. "Watch it! You never know who might be listening! Can you do- the sparkly stuff?"

Fae shook her head. "No, I don't have the Gift. But my father does."

"You actually believe in magic?" he sounded scornful.

She _really _stared at him this time. "I've seen it with my own eyes! Grandpa is the best healer in Tortall- I swear. And everyone knows Alanna the Lioness- or Numair Samalίn, the famous mage."

Carson was still rather skeptical. "Come on. It's just hocus-pocus."

"Don't tell me no-one here has the Gift! Not even a minor one?"

He shook his head. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"But how can you _not_ have magic?" she pressed. "The metal monsters- the moving floors- that must take many powerful mages!"

He laughed so hard he cried. "You mean_ hovecars?_" he said in the gasps. "And _conveyor belts?_ God, I don't even want to know what you'd think of escalators! Or spacecraft!" he pounded the table, tears of mirth flowing freely. "Oh- he he hee- I've gotta tell everybody about that one."

Fae, however, was lost on the second sentence. "God? Now _what_ kind of a religion would worship a single god?"

It seemed there was a lot of staring going on. "Christianity. I'm an atheist- really, but it's just habit. My folks were real churchies. But god_s?_ That sounds so… ancient Greek. Like Zeus or something."

"Gods. Mithros, the god of the sun and warriors, The Great Mother Goddess, goddess of the moon and women, The Dark God, Ganiel, Master of Dream, Kidunka, the World Snake, The Lady of Beasts- you're an _atheist?!?"_

Carson shrugged. "So? Most people are. Religion was done away with early on- though superstition lives." He changed his tone to a mocking one. "A black cat crossing your path is bad luck. So is walking under a ladder. And the Ace of Spades. And breaking a mirror. And opening an umbrella indoors. Hell, what _isn't _bad luck?"

Fae was still rather stunned. "Everyone has to have something to believe in. a god to look up to, to ask for advice."

He clicked his tongue. "Poor gullible- by the way, what _is_ your name?"

"Faeya of Queenscove. Not much status, really, because my father was a younger son. Though Queenscove is one of the more well-known fiefs…"

"A regular noble, eh?" he said. "Well, let me show you the ropes. Here, there's no such thing as magic. Only sleight-of-hand, foolery. We have science. Electricity. That's what makes all the machines her run. Here, life is what you make it. Blood means nothing, and believe me, Faeya, Warties are considered lower than rat shit."

She looked rather frustrated. "Why does everyone call us Warties? I don't have any warts."

Carson looked slightly amused. "I don't know who started it. It's this old story, from way back in the twentieth century. The legend of King Arthur- the Once and Future King. He pulled a sword from a stone, among other things… anyway, he was raised by this Knight, Sir something, and sir something had a son named Kay. Arthur was just adopted, and Kay was the typical asshole and called Arthur Wart, which sounds kind of like Art, which was short for his name. Anyway, The whole King Arthur story was riddled with magic and knights in shining armor, very medieval. So someone came up with the name Warties." 

He finished his dinner. "Look- this doesn't even matter. We're at Juvie Hall, and the lowest of the low. No one gives a fuck about us, and we don't give a fuck about them. We're just trash that should be kept off the streets, out of the way of 'honest citizens'. Bastards." Muttering to himself, he picked up his tray and walked off.

__

Well, that was odd, she thought to herself. _This place is freaky. I wish I was home…_

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Waddaya think? I finally got around to doing this, I've been putting it off forever. Review! 


	6. 

Sorry if I'm not myself this chapter

Sorry if I'm not myself this chapter. I just got a letter from the library saying I owe like TWENTY-FIVE DOLLARS in overdue fines! First I went through shock. Then irony (I just collected from my paper route) then oh-crap-there-goes-twenty-five-dollars. _Just_ when I thought I was home free (all those school assignments-gag). Now I am pissed off the library doesn't even tell you until you've got twenty dollars in fines, and by the time you get it it's twenty-five. Damn- maybe I should write it on my calendar or something…

This one is pretty far-fetched. Very far-fetched. But it all makes sense in time, trust me. Sorry this took so long- I've been barred from the computer for four days (not that that stops me- heh heh) and have been up to by ears in useless nonsense ideas that came into my head (like for all you ML fans, I did this whole thing called 'Hawkbrother Jokes'. It's really, really stupid). I think most of you have skipped this because it was so long but oh well.

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****

Chapter 6: Stormskin

Myranda growled, sitting in her room. She didn't want to get up to do any of those 'authorized activities' that everyone raved about. So she sat in this cubicle-room and boiled in her anger. Bastards. Every last one of them. She just wanted to run them through with a sword. They were remarkably like her parents- they didn't care what you acted like, or who you were- they all wanted something from you. Wouldn't settle for Myr just being herself.

And when she had found out that she had half-siblings and a full brother- why hadn't they told her? How come she hadn't ever known? They just wanted her to be ignorant, that was it. They hated her knowing anything worth knowing. 

Myr was so rolled up in her thoughts that she didn't even notice Faeya enter. 

"Hello," she said shyly. Myr almost didn't hear. 

"Hello miss I-have-mental-problems. How's your day going? What's the weather like? What did you eat for breakfast? Do you know who Ghardan of Yeslife is? Do you care? Is this whole conversation pointless? Is life?" Myr didn't stop there. "Everyone is the same. They want you to fit in their comfy little molds that they made for you before you were born. I hate my name, you know that? Why can people choose their own names? Why can people choose their own lives?" she whirled at Faeya, red hair flying. 

"Why am I alive? Why is anyone? Why don't I have magic?" Fae almost stared at her, surprised. The child of the Wildmage and a black robe had no magic? 

"I hate my mother! I hate my father! I with they were never born! They give me these stupid puppy looks and test me for it every five minutes, as if it might develop over night! Why me? All Daine's other children have magic!"

Fae was even more surprised at that. Daine had other children? "Yes, she had other children!" Myranda continued. "My brother told me when we met! I'd never even known my own _brother_ existed! And I had a dead half-sister who was the Empress of Carthak! And a pair of halfling half-siblings, a brother and a sister!" she started to laugh hysterically. "Halfling half-siblings. And Daine never told me! I know they hate me! They hate me because I hate magic and I hate fighting and I just hate my life! I wish I was dead!" and to Faeya's immense surprise, Myranda broke down and started to cry.

"I don't know what I want except to be dead," she sniffled. "I hate drafts and I hate silly court ladies and I hate wide open spaces. I hate frilly dresses and I hate tunics and I hate big castles. I hate the wilderness and I hate sewers and I hate everything else about Tortall!"

There was a slow pause. "We're not in Tortall any more," Fae whispered, and left as quietly as she had come. 

Myranda sat up and glared after Faeya with red eyes. _And I hate you. I hate you, too…_

~*~

It was the depths of the night. Carson had shortwired the door to his room long ago, and he could come and go as he pleased. Down here at Juvie Hall, you had to take everything you got. He pressed on his penlight and went down the emergency staircase, something that nobody used any more. 

He used a simple piece of wire to open the door at the bottom of the staircase, and pushed it open silently. Dark shapes filed into the empty mess, converging in the center table. Carson carefully shut the door behind him and tiptoed towards the center, where a girl with a flashlight stood. Within ten minutes, the hall was filled with children of all ages, from all ethnic backgrounds.

"Lectricpup." The girl in the center said in clearly, her voice resonating around the room. The flashlight created eerie shadows on her thin face, giving her skin a sallow complexion. "Lectricpup," she repeated. Carson turned to face her. "You evaluated the newcomers. Do you think we should initiate them?"

Lectricpup/Carson looked pensive. "The loud one- Myranda- will be an asset. She has anger, which can be channeled to our uses. She can keep her mouth shut when she wishes to. The other one- Faeya- is quiet. She keeps her emotions hidden, and is less likely to give us away. Though she claims to have no Wartie magic, she has strong telekinesis. Stronger than mine." There were murmurs of the audience at this. "She has an uncertain emotional background, but then again- who of us doesn't?" there were chuckles at that. "I will volunteer to be her teacher in our ways. I think we should initiate them."

That was the deciding phrase. The girl stood up, her blond hair shining in the dim light. "Then I, the Stormsmaster, leader of this Kin, declare Faeya and Myranda of the Natives to be Unnamed."

Lectricpup nodded, and sent two of the Stormskin to fetch the Unnamed. They had been chosen into the group- and now they had to prove themselves and earn a name. He had earned his by way of his skill with electronics- he took care of the shortwiring for all the Kin.

A few minutes later they returned with the two girls, firm hands over their mouths. Faeya looked dazed, and Myranda looked pissed off.

"Release them," he commanded. They stepped back. He turned his gaze upon the two girls. "You have been chosen by the Stormsmaster under my recommendation. Do not prove me wrong. If you want to join our kin, you must prove yourselves by earning a name. I am Lectricpup. I earned my name through skill with electronics." He waved a hand at a boy beside him. "This is Fleahi. He earned his name from jumping." Fleahi did a midair somersault to demonstrate. (***This is not unrealistic- I actually know someone who can do this- not on a trampoline and he wasn't some trained professional or anything***).

Myranda snorted. "The only thing I'm good at is eavesdropping. Like reading lips and stuff."

Lectricpup snorted right back at her. "You call that nothing? We don't have anyone who can do that. And you?"

Faeya looked shyly back up at him. "I couldn't do anything. Never."

He eyes her slowly. "Either you think of something fast- or you get probed. The Stormsmaster is good at probing, and it isn't pleasant."

Faeya didn't move.

Lectricpup straightened. "I will take you to her now."

He pulled them over to where the Stormsmaster was waiting. She stood there, stock still, only her lips moving. "I am the Master of the Storms," she said. "You are unproved to me, Unnamed. Tell me your secrets, and be one with the Kin."

Fleahi pushed Myranda forward. "This one is skilled in the manner of listening to others, Stormsmaster."

The Stormsmaster looked at Myr carefully. Myr shivered. "That is truth. This one will have the name of Lipseye." Myranda sank back into the crowd, and Fae was pushed forward.

"This one will be probed," Lectricpup said softly. The Stormsmaster reached forward and placed her hands on Faeya's shaking temples, and entered her mind…

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CLIFFHANGER!!! Ooh, I love those. I'm baaaad.


	7. Earning Your Way

Okay, a bit of a cliffhanger there… but I like it

Sorry this took all year. I've been up to my ears is socials assignments (_boring_ socials assignments)- not to mention a _huge_ French project- I have to type out ten pages of this thing… and the fact that about a quarter way through the story got in a rut and I had absolutely no ideas. One paragraph every three days… So be grateful the chapter came this early!

~*~

****

Chapter 7: Earning Your Way

Pain lanced through her forehead; it felt like someone was digging a shove through her brain. She tried to break free from the girl's hold and found she couldn't move. She couldn't speak- she opened her mouth to scream- and had a hand clamped over it. Sweat was pouring down her face; she could taste it on her tongue. The veins on her neck stood out, her breathing came faster-

And it was all over. It went away as suddenly as it had come. The Stormsmaster opened her eyes, and Faeya saw the older girl was in no better shape than she was. She was supported by two friends, and put on a bench to rest. "Runaway…" she murmured, and went unconscious.

One of the Stormsmaster's friends turned to Faeya. "Run." She growled. And needles lanced through her skull, as Fae was filled with the urge to run, now. She ran across the mess, legs a blur, and was knocked over by someone guarding the doorway. Her head banged against a table, and the boy put his finger to the back of her scalp, looking at the blood on them.

"She'll be fine," he said softly. "But we have two new members of our Kin- Lipseye and Runaway."

A silent cheer rippled through the audience, and such was it's strength that even those without telepathy could hear it's wave…

~*~

Faeya woke in her room, with only a dim recollection of what had happened. Then she remembered the initiation, the mind-scorching dig through her brain… She shook that thought away and concentrated on the problems at hand. Myranda was being a bitch- no help there. This place was a rotten hamburger wrapped in tin foil: shiny, cheap, and disgusting. (***hey, it's a great metaphor!***) All she wanted to do was roll up in a tight ball and sleep until it all ended. But of course she couldn't do that.

Fae went out the door onto the conveyor belt when the bell rang and down to the mess. It seemed like the usual, kids milling around, yakking and shoving. But she wasn't as excluded as they day before… like she was in some sort of secret club that only a selected few could join. And maybe that's what it was. Some sort of club. Cult. Religion. Group. Organization. Whatever it was, Faeya didn't know. But Carson had told her to come down to the mess again tonight… so she would soon find out.

Meanwhile, Myranda seemed to have attached herself to Carson, asking questions every five seconds, poking fun at him, being generally annoying. In other words, flirting like no tomorrow. Fae could put up with that- she wasn't really interested in all that mush.

But she had other things to worry about. These 'group activities' that Juvie Hall organized were about to happen. Fae wasn't so sure what they were… and she was slightly afraid of them. But when they actually started the games, they were fairly normal, just this game with a ball. You kicked the black and white ball around the field and tried to get it in the opposite team's net. Simple. It might have been a lot of fun. Except for the fact that an electric fence ringed the field, and there were men in dark glasses with strange tube-things in their hands at regular intervals. 

Fae sat on the sidelines until she was pushed into the game by one of the coordinators. She curled herself up in a ball and wouldn't move. _Justgoawayjustgoawayjustgoaway._ Eventually, they gave up.

Myranda, strangely, was having the time of her life. It was so much better than back home, and those bastards… They didn't care about her there- but here they did. If you didn't let people walk all over you, they respected you and accepted you for who you were. Not like back home. They didn't expect anything from you except to play hard, and keep your mouth shut. Not like back home…

~*~ 

"We will tell you of our society," Carson said. It was yet again the middle of the night, and all the kids at Juvie Hall were crammed into the mess.

"It started with a boy, a boy with a dream…"

~*~

I know that's short, but I just had to cut it off there. The next chapter will be the story… I think this whole Faeya thing is going to be REALLY long- I'm not NEAR done yet. Suffer on, all, suffer on!


	8. How It All Began

And I thought my socials assignments were bad

And I thought my socials assignments were bad. Now we have a TEST on all this crap I don't half understand- maybe I should have paid attention in class instead of reading under the desk… (at least that's what my friend Erin says). Oh- and that French project? Michelle doesn't have a computer so I have to type it all out while she does the verb and noun thing. Why do teachers put us all through this type of torture?!? 

PS: if any of these 'talents' in the story resemble in any way Mercedes Lackey's mind magic, as opposed to the Tortallan 'true magic', I blame my pathetic imagination. 

~*~

Chapter 8: How It All Began

Carson told the story of a boy named Copper, how he started the Revolution…

~*~

It began when the human race started to find previously colonized planets. Previously colonized by humans. There was a theory that humans, way before the pharaohs of Egypt, had had even more amazing technology than these days. Like the technology to do brain transplants into a human cyborg body, for instance. Or to create androids that actually _felt _like people did.

They came to one world, and the settlers jokingly called it Tortilla. It was some lame pun from an early incident- but somehow it stuck. Copper thought it was partly because the natives called this stretch of land Tortall, and with their accents it sounded like Tortilla.

It originated as a Class 4 jail-planet, a place to throw drunks and juvenile delinquents. The natives were pretty harsh, and wouldn't let anyone within an inch of their territory. They were very medieval, with the whole knights and damsels in distress theory. They even believed in magic. Not just a bit of superstition- but full-blown, all-out magic. That seemed to be a trait of most (if not all) previously colonized planets, no that was nothing new.

Copper was caught on some Marina planet for the usual- pinching credits and air-suits. He was thrown on the backwater Tortilla into the local Juvie Hall. There, it was just the usual, really. Until he met one of the natives.

The guy was every bit a warrior, armed to the teeth with steel and iron. He managed to fend off a couple of scientists who wanted to question him- then, of course, they whipped out their stun-guns, shot him, and stripped him bare before dressing him in some of their own spare clothing. They obviously didn't trust him.

But when Copper saw the man- that was his inspiration. Copper wanted to know more about this planet's savage inhabitants. Back then the Juvie Hall was right next to the Adult Penitentiary, so it was fairly easy to sneak out one night to meet the man.

Funny enough, they spoke the same language. It was _weird._ _Nobody_ from two different planets spoke the same language! It just wasn't _right_! The man just had a bit of an accent.

"Excuse me- um, sir?" Copper told the man, standing outside the cell-room. "Why did they put you in here?"

The man looked up in surprise. "Eh? Who're ye?"

"Copper. I'm from the Juvie Hall." The man obviously didn't understand, but he didn't say anything. Copper shook his head. "Never mind. I have an- interest in the natives of this planet. Can you tell be about where you live? How did you get here?"

The man sighed. "I was going on a diplomatic mission, see? This is _our_ land, _our _country. Wherever ye came from, across the sea like some say, or outta the sky like others, ye've no right t'be here. As a knight of the realm of Tortall, I was going to meet with yer superiors. But then the smart-ass white-coats came in, wanted me to go with them. I knew they weren't the people I wanted, and I didn't want to go with them. You know the rest."

"Is it true that you use magic?" Copper asked, still mystified.

The man gave him a look like he was an imbecile. "Of course we have magic, you dimbulbs! I've only a little Gift meself, but-"

"Could you show me magic?" Copper asked excitedly. 

"Wuz the big deal? I can only call fire."

"Please?"

The man sighed, perhaps thinking that Copper was a bit touched in the head. He fished a scrap of leather out of his pocket, tossed it on the floor, and it ignited in flame. 

Copper's eyes widened. "Can you do anything else? I mean, you could have done something to that before hand."

The man snorted. "Take somethin' ye want burned, and throw it on th'floor outside th'cell."

Copper fished some lint out of his pocket and threw it on the floor. It had barely touched the floor when it burst into flame.

Copper nearly jumped up and down. "That is so cool! It's like pyrokinetic!"

Copper had to leave, but he came back twice a week after that, learning about Tortall. There was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to go there, he wanted to see the realm of knights and dragons…

Sir Larden of Malorie's Peak was his name, the second-in-command of the King's Own. Three weeks later he was released after thorough questioning. There was no doubt in Copper's mind that Tortall would never try and send a representative again.

The reigning monarch was a _Queen,_ not a king as others thought. Men and women had equal status in Tortall, and the eldest child was made heir regardless of gender. Queen Marianne was her name, and she showed no sign of getting married, so it was sensible to assume that her younger brother or his sons would get the throne when she died. That she would not marry was no big threat, as she had five brothers and sisters, the Dukes and Duchesses.

When Sir Larden was gone, Copper formulated his own plan. He formed a group of loyal followers, and they all planned to escape. He harvested all information on magic that he could find, and came to a surprising answer.

Whenever humans came to re-populate previously colonized planets, some developed gifts like the locals' magic, but subtly different. It was all old wives-tales as far as most were concerned, but Copper delved into the subject as much as he could. He found the talents of today: telekinesis, telepathy, pyrokinesis, voirathy, (***now I'm making up words!***), and some of the exclusive abilities.

Copper and his followers were the first to escape this place. The stories say Copper founded a group of islands and had them named after him- but nobody really believes that (***some people are particularly dense***).

Now there are groups of us on nearly all of the prev-planets (planets previously colonized by humans), that train these abilities and plan escape. We are just one of many, bound together by our sworn word and the hope that one day we will be free.

~*~

I thought that was good! I'm getting so sci-fi, aren't I? (hey, I'm a poet and I didn't know it!). I blame Anne McCaffrey, Monica Hughes, Garth Nix, Piers Anthony- hell, I blame any writer who has ever done sci-fi! It's a contagious disease!!! Oh- and please review.


	9. The Action Part

Oh, dear

Oh, dear. This story is getting pretty damn far-flung. I hope I don't turn Myr into a slut… well, I turned Daine and Kel into sluts, and gave Alanna different boyfriends, so whatever. One of the scenes in this chapter really reminds me of Return of the Jedi- well, you'll see. I'm raving, aren't I? On we go then.

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Chapter 9: The Action Part

Faeya wanted to go home. Funny, she never thought she'd miss it, but she did. It was Myr who never wanted to go back, that was the obvious thing. But maybe Fae wouldn't have so long to wait- The Stormskin were planning escape. Fae knew this was the past, Carson had explained it to her- but she still couldn't quite believe the whole thing. She was still convinced that she would walk home to see Mom and Dad…

~*~

Carson shortwired the sliding doors and motioned for his group to follow him. They were all going in separate shifts, in case they were caught. Some members stayed behind, to let any new kids know that life didn't have to be the way it was… that they could escape. Another kid had had the computer scrambled with a cheap virus- an _altered_ cheap virus.

Carson's group, the eighth (and last), consisted of five people. The plan was to get out of the building as soon as possible, and get out of town by the river. Originally, it had been aboveground, but when they built the city they diverted it somehow. They'd go in through the resevoir, and, hopefully, emerge outside of the city.

Of course, the reservoir wasn't exactly close. They'd have to dodge civilians and cops, but before any of that, they had to take care of another problem. When a kid went into Juvenile Hall, they put a special chip in his/her ear that alerted if it got too far from the building. Anyone with telekinesis was assigned the job of removing these nearly microscopic chips. Carson got his groups' out without hassle, and he could only hope the other groups were successful.

They ran through town, skirting nightclubs, bars and the like, and heading for the reservoir at the other end of town. When they finally got there, the sound of rushing water alerted them that they were close. Single file, they went down the metal ladder in the manhole to wait below. Once everyone was down, they stood on the edge of the water on a little ledge used for maintenance. The entire tunnel was maybe four metres wide, the ledge about 3/4ths of a meter across. The way out was east, so they continued in the north-east tunnel and got quite far without mishap. Other than a few cameras killed by well-aimed rocks, their trek was fairly uneventful- it was going through town that was the problem. 

The tunnel started to slant uphill, and you could tell the river was pushed by something other than gravity. Faeya thought maybe it was some kind of suction thing. When a cool breeze wafted against her skin, she knew they were about the leave the tunnel. Soon a starry patch of night sky could be seen overhead, and they were out in a field full of waving grasses. 

"We're out," someone murmur. Fae suppressed the urge to say 'well, _duh._' She inhaled in the fresh scent of spring- only to have her ears nearly blasted off by an alarm.

"Shit!" Carson cursed, and ran for the trees. Bullets hit the dust beside them, getting more and more accurate.

"Run, you idiots!" Carson yelled. "They think we're Warties!" Men in dark suits and night-vision glasses mounted hov-scooters and revved them up.

Fae was clutched by overwhelming fear- she was going to die, oh gods she was going to die- until another girl grabbed her arm and pulled her forward. Moments later that same girl was sprawled in the dust, blood pooling around her chest. Faeya stopped dead still for a moment- and then ran as fast as she could, passing the others, driven by fear.

Carson could hear the whine of the hov-scooters on their trail- model fives, it looked like. Not amazing, but even a model one could overtake a human on foot and think nothing of it. He clutched his side as a stitch formed, and tried to dredge up some energy from his last reserves. He chanced a look behind him and saw one a bit smaller than the rest- and faster. The woman riding on it fired, and it grazed past Carson's shoulder, wetting his sleeve with blood.

__

I'm never going to outrun them, he thought desperately. _I can at least take one down with me…_ He stopped suddenly, and the moped shot past him. Carson grabbed wildly for the back and was swept off his feet, legs dangling. He managed to get his feet up and sat on the back of the hov-moped, getting his balance. The woman finally noticed him and turned around to fire-

He hit the gun with a shockwave of telekinesis, knocking it out of the woman's hand and into his own. He raised his hand, aimed at her head- and fired.

~*~

Faeya had already reached the shelter of the trees and was frantically searching for a hiding spot. She could hear the scooters behind her- she could almost see them. But she couldn't see any good spots- no fallen logs, no overhanging rocks. She debated dashing off again, and was almost decided when a man grabbed her arm. Fae stifled a yelp an whipped around to see a man clad in full armor, sword halfway out of its sheath.

"Shh," he hissed. "We're attacking the city, get out of the way!"

"We- we were escaping," Faeya gasped. 

"Go." He interrupted. "We'll cover your back."

"The others-"

"Them too. Now!" Fae continued running into the trees, her surroundings a blur. She wondered if everyone else was even alive…

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I'll end it on the cheerful note. *right*. Oh, please review. PLEASE. I'm beggin' ya! The sci-finess is wearing out, maybe one more chapter and it'll go back to fantasy. Mostly because- well, I can't tell you. *tee he*.


	10. Tortall's Past

Well, this is getting long

Well, this is getting _long._ I've only done one thing longer, TT part 3. And I'm gonna do _way_ more! You'll never escape me!! Does anyone know if Tortall has printing presses? I mean, they can't write _everything_ by hand. Whatever. I'm just making up the year, too. I don't know what Tortall's real year is.

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Chapter 10: Tortall's Past

Faeya woke on a small cot in a warm room, a cozy fire in the corner. She blinked a bit and rubbed her eyes, scanning her surroundings.

It was so much like home she almost cried. Just like her room in the palace… She saw a woman in sensible clothing sitting on a chair at her bedside, reading a book. _Deja vu._

The woman looked up. "Oh hello! Glad you're up. The silly armymen just shunted you to the back of the lines and let you drop exhausted, poor thing. What's your name, hon? I'm Daria of Conté."

"Conté?" Faeya asked, puzzled.

"Just a minor noble house, darling." She laughed, a sound like pealing bells. 

"But Conté is the royal house!" Fae protested.

"Since when? What century are you from, youngling?" 

"Year thirty-seven P.I.M.…" Fae trailed off.

"P.I.M?" The woman asked.

"Post Immortals War. Before that it was A.I., After Immortals, from when they put the barrier between the mortal realms and the realms of the gods."

Daria just stared at her. "_Where_ did you say you were from again? And what is your name?"

"Faeya of Queenscove."

Daria laughed again. "Yeah, right. You want me to believe you're royalty?"

"Of course I'm not!"

"Then what's your _real_ house, sugar?"

"I told you, Queenscove!" Faeya said, exasperated.

"But Queenscove is the royal house!"

"No, Conté is!"

Daria rubbed her forehead with her hands. "So. You want me to believe the year is thirty-seven P.I.M., that Conté is the royal house, and that Queenscove isn't. Tell me another one."

"If the year isn't thirty-seven P.I.M., then what the hell is it?!?" Faeya almost yelled.

The woman looked grim. "The year is three-thousand-forty-six A.C., After Creation. The grimmest year in this country's history."

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Why is it the grimmest year? Read on to find out! (Sorry it was so short, I just _had_ to end it there). 


	11. The Grimmest Year in Tortall's History

More, more, more

More, more, more! This'll never end! And this is only the very beginning! PS: I just found out Tortall's real year when I finished Page (yes, I did just read it two days ago!). But what the heck, this is Tortall's Twin.

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****

Chapter 11: The Grimmest Year in Tortall's History 

(and a bit backwards)

"Why?" Faeya asked.

Daria of Conté closed her eyes. "It has been grim since the Space Invaders came." (***A/N: okay, more of my pathetic sense of humor***) "They landed here, tried to force us from our homes and villages. They had terrible weapons, and all who resisted perished. Finally, they just left us alone. Just like that. Like they were saying, 'you're not really worth fighting, so just stay off our property.'"

"What happened then?"

"It then became like it is now. They slowly nibble at the corners of our country, eating away at our lands. One day there will be nothing left. So we decided to form a resistance, because we have one thing they do not. "

"Magic." Fae nodded.

"Magic," Daria repeated. "Not only do none of them posses the Gift, they don't believe in it either. They think it's all superstitious nonsense."

Faeya gasped. "But that's- that's mad!"

"Of course it's mad! Everything about them is." 

Faeya took in a deep breath, and thought about what she was going to say. "What do you think-" she started, "What do you think about time travel?" she let it all out at once.

Daria just stared at her. "Huh?"

"Time travel. I think…. I'm from another time."

"Like the past?"

"No, no!" Fae said. "The _future._ When I come from, Conté is the royal house, not Queenscove. These Space Invaders you talk about… they're thousands of years old. There's nothing left of them but ruins."

Daria inhaled sharply. "And there are different _people._" Fae continued. "Who is King, by the way?"

"King Jonathan the first, of course."

Faeya laughed. "My Tortall is ruled by King Jonathan the _fourth._ And his heir is Crown Prince Roald, named after his father, King Roald… Who's King's Champion?"

"Sir Anibert of Tirragen."

Fae laughed even harder. "Tirragen! I should have known!" when her giggles subsided, she explained. "Alexander of Tirragen was killed by the present King's Champion, Alanna of Pirate's Swoop and Olau, formerly Alanna of Trebond, better known as the Lioness. Tirragen is a notoriously baaaaad fief. Next you'll tell me the Prime Minister is Eldorne!"

Daria blinked. "But she is. Sir Treyanie of Eldorne, a most respected woman on all counts…"

Fae just laughed, and laughed, and laughed. "Malven! Tell me who's Malven!"

"Sir Lanienna of Malven, Knight Commander of the King's Own…" 

Faeya collapsed on the floor, clutching her sides. "You're kidding! Tell me you're kidding!"

Daria looked indignant. "I'll have you know that Trebond is one of the most horrible, traitorous fiefs to grace Tortall! And you don't even want to know about Goldenlake, Naxen, and *shudder* Olau."

Tears of mirth flowed freely from Fae's eyes, she laughed and laughed and laughed. How long had it been since she laughed this hard? Years…

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Okay, I got kind of overboard with that one. But hey, I'm just having some fun! Review!


	12. Back Home...

Wow

Wow! This is the longest thing I've ever done, surpassing TT3! This is a really fluffy chapter, but I thought it was OK.

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Chapter 12: Back Home…

Back in present-day Tortall…

Kel tossed and turned in her sweat-soaked sheets. When trying to sleep failed, she threw the blankets off her and walked to the window, opening it a crack to let in the cool night air. She smiled sardonically to herself. What did you do when your only child disappeared, your marriage was falling apart, and you had enough insomnia to keep a rock awake? She thought, and no magical ideas sprung to mind.

It had started maybe a few months ago, before Faeya had left…

__

Kel rolled over in bed, and stroked her husband's cheek. "I love you, Cleon," she murmured. Then she realized what she had said.

Neal turned away and got out of bed. 

"I'm sorry, Neal-" Neal didn't listen to her, he just pulled on his breeches roughly. "Neal-" he was gone.

She _knew_ that he was sensitive about that… for fifteen years, she had kept it away from him. But she opened her big fat mouth, and said his name. The very big, very sweet, very _dead_ Cleon. Her dead lover. Her first love, the one she had sworn her heart to.

Kel's marriage with Neal was arranged. He knew it, she knew it. She'd come to love him, in time… but there was always that empty space, that space that could never be filled, that space that Cleon had loved and nurtured.

Kel walked out onto the balcony and let the wind blow through her damp hair. "Cleon…" she whispered into the soft breeze. She could almost hear his voice, saying, _Will you marry me, Keladry of Mindelan? Keladry of Mindelan? Keladry of Kennan? Keladry of Kennan? _"Keladry of Kennan?" she said out loud.

"Kel…" she whipped around to face a red-eyed Neal. Kel out her face in her hands, and cried. "Oh, gods, Neal, I love him, I love him…"

Neal's voice cracked as he spoke. "I know. Just- It's all falling apart, Kel. I can't stay here any more. I'd been meaning to tell you…"

"Tel me what?"

Neal bit his lip. "I've been having an affair." Kel let out a little yelp. "You know I loved her, Kel! And after Uline's husband died…"

Kel's jaw dropped open. "_Uline?_ Your pagehood crush?"

"I'm sorry, Kel." He kissed her softly, and disappeared into their rooms.

Kel stayed on the balcony for a while, and then went back in. Neal was gone, that was easy to expect. She pulled on a pair of breeches and blouse, and hastily laced up her boots. She was going somewhere she never thought she'd go voluntarily…

~*~

The stairs up to Balor's Needle were now in good repair, not rusted, like back a few years ago. She ascended the inner staircase, looking at the wall as she went up. When she came to the top, Kel forced herself to walk to the edge of the railing and look out at the landscape.

"Oh, gods, why did he have to die?" Kel cried, and buried her face in her hands. A little voice in her mind niggled at her. _Because he couldn't bear to see you with Neal, silly. Because he wanted to die, when he saw his best friend married to his beloved…_

"Cleon…" she said. "Cleeeeeeeeoooooooooon!" her voice reverberated across the hills and through the Royal Forest. A wisp of fog touched the back of Kel's neck, making her shiver. It was cold out… but- warm. She felt warm like she hadn't felt in years. She had Cleon's face in her mind, she could almost reach out and touch him… Kel snapped her hand back. She could almost see it face in the mist- she shook her head. Hallucinations. But she reached forward, brushed her hands against his cheek…

"No!" she cried, and turned away, her back to the railing. But there he was again, standing in the mist, holding out his hands… _"Kel…"_ he whispered. _"Come back to me, my Keladry…The sunshine of my day…" _Kel squeezed her eyes shut, and opened them again. He was still there.

__

"I love you, Keladry…" he moved forward on immaterial feet, to place a ghostly kiss on her eyelids. _"Remember me, Kel? Remember our time together? Remember when you said you'd be Keladry of Kennan? Remember…"_

Kel closed her eyes and remembered, the things he used to do, his throaty laugh, his twinkling eyes. She opened her eyes again and turned around, vaulting onto the railing. There she balanced perfectly, with her beloved beside her. Cleon reached forward, offered his hand, and Kel took it. She jumped.

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*sniff* that was so- *wipes a tear away* _sad._ But I like it... yes, I'm going to keep it.


	13. Homecoming...?

Well

Well! I hope I didn't get any flames for the last chapter… I do like Kel, she's my fave char, but I thought it was very sweet. Whatever! Deal with it! Oh, sorry I've been taking so long, but the French project is due on Monday, and technically I have to finish mowing the lawn before I can go on the computer. *grins sheepishly*. And we have a _big_ lawn. Bah, enough complaining.

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Chapter 13: Homecoming…?

It was all set up; they were ready to go. Faeya breathed a sigh of relief. Soon, she'd be home. Home… Myranda had decided to stay- she'd gotten quite attached to Carson. Fae shook her head at the whole business.

In this Tortall, there tended to be fewer with the Gift, but with stronger Gifts. The black-robe mage was almost common. In fact, there was even a slot above the black robe called the silver robe. Right now there were four in the world. 

Faeya was amazed that they would try to send her home, and willingly. It had all been set up, now it was time to pull the trigger. 

One of the mages raised his hands: this was the signal. The others raised their hands as well, and a portal of black swirling mass formed just a few feet away from Faeya. Just looking at it made her feel dizzy, as if- well, it wasn't like anything she had ever felt before. The best way to describe it was like riding on a roller coaster that went through a transparent knotted tube while turning around and around. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Faeya stepped into the funnel. She felt like she was falling and rising at the same time- then she made the mistake of opening her eyes.

Everywhere there were clocks: grandfather clocks, sundials, electric alarm clocks, wrist watches- the list went on. Half of them had numbers on them that Fae had never even seen before. She passed out.

~*~

When Faeya came to, she was sitting on a _hard _rock in the middle of a forest. _Good so far,_ she thought. _To think I'm finally home…_

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Heh heh… but is she? Short, I know. And the clocks in the time travel portal thing is so used. Oh, this is the end of this part. I'm gonna call the next one Time Travel Chronicles Part 2: The Last Lady Knight. I'm getting fond of these long titles! It'll be about (duh) the last lady knight before Alanna, who Fae meets, along with others, etc, etc. Review!


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